


The Fifth Morning

by FlagofHeaven



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas is newly human and confused, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Making Out, Sam Ships It, Sleep lessons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 07:58:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4617558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlagofHeaven/pseuds/FlagofHeaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A newly human Castiel doesn't understand falling asleep so he asks Dean for advice. Dean grumpily lets Cas share his bed until he learns to sleep. </p><p>Canon divergent s9 (Ezekiel and April never happened)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fifth Morning

On the first night Dean had literally no idea how to deal with Castiel’s nonsense.

Dean was becoming a deeper sleeper now that they lived in the Men of Letters bunker. Unlike cheap, sketchy motel rooms with questionable bedspreads, his room in the Bunker was unlikely to be invaded by demons in the middle of the night. He had even taken to not sleeping in his clothes and shoes. But yes, of course there was still a gun under his pillow and a silver knife on the table next his his bed, he wasn’t an idiot.

Tonight it seemed moments since he had fallen asleep when he heard the door to his room open. Years of habit and muscle memory had him sitting up, gun cocked and aimed at the figure in the open doorway.

“Dean, it’s me,” came a familiar voice.

Dean let out a sigh, lowering the gun. “Jeez, Cas. Knock or something next time.”

“My apologies.” 

Castiel stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the light from the hallway. He was wearing a faded tshirt and sweatpants that Dean had loaned him. Castiel had gotten to the Bunker yesterday and Dean promised to take him shopping for his own clothes -- “you can’t keep wearing those” he had said about the outfit Cas had taken from the laundromat. In the meantime, he was borrowing Dean’s clothes, because Sam’s “wouldn’t even fit you if you cuffed them ten times”.

“In or out,” Dean grunted.

“What?”

“In or out, Cas, quit lurking in the doorway. It’s weird.”

Castiel did not move. Dean sighed, tucking the gun back under his pillow and sitting up properly on the bed. He was shirtless, and grateful that he had left his boxers on when he climbed into bed. It seemed like one of those times he would need to drag out of Cas whatever was bothering the angel...uh, ex-angel, Dean thought sadly.

Dean patted the bed next to him and turned on small lamp next to his bed. “What’s wrong, Cas?”

Castiel stepped inside the room, closing the door, and came to sit on the bed beside Dean, but did not face him.

“I can’t sleep.”

Dean snorted slightly. “That’s it?”

Castiel glanced at him and looked slightly offended. “I was an angel for thousands of years Dean, I had no need for sleep. Even when I took possession of vessels I did not need to indulge certain human tendencies. There are so many parts of being human that I just don’t understand. I don’t...” he looked down at his feet. “Sleep is hard. Even when I was traveling, when I was coming here, I was so tired, so very tired, but I had such trouble falling asleep.”

“It’s hard to sleep when you’re on the run, Cas, that’s totally normal,” Dean assured him. “Your mind was too busy keeping you safe to let your body do its thing.” He reached out a hand and gently placed it on Cas’s shoulder. “But you’re safe now, you’re home. You can sleep now.”

Castiel considered this. “How do you fall asleep, Dean? A man in one of the homeless camps suggested counting sheep but I did not see any sheep or other farmyard animals to quantify. Are there sheep in the Bunker somewhere?” he asked, completely serious.

“Ughhhh,” Dean moaned, closing his eyes for a moment leaning his head back. “You’re killing me, man. Cas, it’s not actual sheep. You imagine sheep -- never mind. Just. Cas you gotta --” Dean stopped talking as he saw Castiel look confused and lost again. He hated that look, and he was often the cause of it for Cas. He hated himself for making the angel (ex-angel, that’s the whole problem!, he reminded himself) look like that. He knew it must be hard for Cas and being an jerk wasn’t going to help him. 

“Ok. Here.” He scooted himself over to the other side of the bed. “Lie down.”

“Alright.” If Castiel found this direction or the fact that Dean was sharing his bed strange, he kept it to himself. He lie down, resting his head on the pillow Dean pushed over to him.

“Now, some people sleep on their backs, some on their sides, and some on their stomach. It just depends on what’s comfortable for you.” A part of Dean could not believe he was giving instructions in sleeping; if there was one thing that came totally naturally to humans, wouldn’t this be it? 

“You often sleep on your stomach,” Castiel commented, rolling onto his side and facing Dean.

Dean opened his mouth for a moment, slightly confused, and then decided not to question that bit of information. “I’m not even gonna ask how you know that,” he said. “Ok. Once you’re comfortable, close your eyes, and take some deep breaths.” He slouched down on the bed, no longer sitting up, but not lying down next to Cas yet. “You gotta relax all the tension out of your body then just kinda drift off.”

Castiel smiled momentarily up at Dean and then closed his eyes. Dean tried not to think about how mesmerized he was by the peaceful image of Cas as he took several deep breaths and the tension melted out of his shoulders. Dean leaned over and turned off the lamp, willing himself to look away from Cas.

After a few minutes Dean could hear the difference in Castiel’s breathing and figured his work was done and he could go back to sleep. He slumped down the rest of the way until he was lying on his back. He rolled over onto his side, his back to Cas. 

Sleep Winchester, he told himself. You just taught a solider of heaven how to do it, you should be able to. 

Except ... except, his whole body was warm suddenly. Warm and tense. He could feel the tension in his shoulders as he hunched over further. He told himself not to over think the fact that Cas was in his bed, nor that Cas was just a foot away from him. He told himself not to think about the warm pulse in his veins as he listened to the slow rhythm of Cas’s breathing. He ignored the strong ache in his arms to roll over and wrap them around Cas. 

Go. To. Sleep, he told himself sternly. 

But...Cas came in here, the less-helpful part of his brain reminded him. He came in here, where you were sleeping. And he stayed. He didn’t take your advice and go back to his own room.

But Cas was always doing weird things like that, Dean reminded himself, fighting to ignore the tension in his shoulders getting worse and his blood practically humming. Cas always turned to Dean for help with human things; he copied Dean. This was no different. He was scared and exhausted so of course he did not say no to Dean’s directions to go to sleep right here.

By morning, Dean was pretty sure he had woken up at least twice and started when he saw Castiel and realized it had not been a dream. A part of him was very happy each time this happened. And it only made falling back asleep even harder.

By the third time he woke up Castiel was gone. A glance at his watch told him it was already 10am. Dean also noticed that his head was on the pillow and he was more centered on the bed. He must have of rolled over after Cas left. Or maybe Castiel moved him over when he had gotten up? Or ... had he rolled over into Cas’s side of the bed while he was still there? 

Dean smiled slightly at that thought. Of course that could mean Castiel had become uncomfortable and left. Dean pushed the thought aside and dragged himself out of bed and to the showers. That would clear his head. 

Until he bumped into Castiel coming back from the showers, with just a towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping from his hair and a huge grin on his face.

“Showers are very nice part of being human,” he told Dean, who stood there stupidly with his mouth slightly open watching Cas as he walked by. “Dean? Are you ok?”

“What? Huh, yeah, awesome, I’m, uh...” he trailed off and hurried off to the shower, ignoring whatever crazy flip flopping things his stomach was doing. Not to mention other parts of his body.

* * *  
The second night, Castiel knocked. 

“What?” Dean groaned.

Castiel opened the door and slipped inside the room, closing it behind him. He did not say anything until he reached the bed and sat down, shifting awkwardly.

“I, uh, I slept really well last night,” he stated.

“Awesome, Cas. You’ll be a real boy in no time.”

“May I sleep here again?” 

Oh god, he was serious. Castiel was asking to sleep in his bed again. Dean fought to maintain control of his body and the crazy lust driven thoughts that were popping into his head. Dean wanted to reach out and pull Castiel down next to him, to strip him out of that faded t-shirt and explore every part of that vessel... No. 

He couldn’t take advantage of Cas. The guy was newly human, confused, and had just recently watched all his brothers and sisters fall from Heaven. If Dean did anything to Cas while he was this vulnerable, he would never forgive himself. He also couldn’t bare to see Cas upset or any more lost than he already felt. If he needed companionship to sleep for now, Dean was ok with that. 

“Sure,” Dean said finally, his voice a little raspier than he had expected. He moved over and let Castiel lie down. “Good night, Cas,” he said softly.

“Good night, Dean.”

* * *  
On the third night, Castiel brought his own pillow. 

On the third night, Dean expected it. 

Sam had gone to bed early, still sleeping off some of the pain of the Trials. Dean and Cas had stayed up late -- Dean was introducing Cas to all the old Westerns he loved -- and when the movie ended Dean headed back to his room, stripping down to his boxers and t-shirt, and got into bed. A few minutes later came the knock on his door, followed by Castiel entering the room carrying a pillow.

Dean had lied down on the far left side of the bed, automatically leaving a space for Cas. Castiel set the pillow down and crawled under the blankets. 

“Good night, Dean.”

“Good night, Cas.”

* * *  
This time when Dean woke up, Castiel was still there. He was still asleep, in the exact same position he had laid down in. Dean had rolled onto his stomach, his left hand positioned under his pillow and his right hand....

His right hand was firmly wrapped around Cas’s. 

A very warm jolt spread through Dean. His hand felt tingly and hot, he could feel his pulse quickening and he tried very hard to keep his breath even. Keep it together.

Beside him Castiel breathed in deeply, and for a moment Dean thought he was going to wake up. Keep it together, what are you 12? You’re just holding hands, you weirdo.

Dean took a few deep breaths and pretended to be asleep. But he wasn’t. And he wasn’t asleep when Castiel stirred beside him, squeezed his hand gently and got up, and tucked the blanket back around Dean. He wasn’t asleep when Castiel opened the door and there was a long, long pause before he heard Cas step outside and close it quietly.

What the hell just happened?

* * *  
“Morning Cas,” Sam greeted the ex-angel as he entered the kitchen. “Sleep well?” Sam was smiling a little too much this morning. 

“Quite well, yes, thank you, Sam.” Castiel did not look at Dean, who was seated at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee and slices of cold pizza from last night in front of him.

“Breakfast?” Dean asked. “There’s also cereal. And whatever the hell healthy crap Sam is eating.”

Castiel poured himself a cup of coffee and joined the brothers at the table. “Thank you,” he told Dean, taking a slice of pizza off Dean's plate. Dean gave him a look that said "really?" and Sam smiled quietly. Castiel turned to Sam, studying the younger brother. “How are you feeling Sam?” he asked casually.

“I’m --”

“He’s crap,” Dean interrupted. “Those trials messed him up and until he’s running on a full tank we are on lockdown and outsourcing cases to other hunters.”

Sam glared at Dean across the table. “I was going to say, I feel like crap, but I’m keeping busy enough. Speaking of which, I’m gonna follow up with that hunter Eric, he’s chasing something out in Nebraska.” He got up, his expression pained, and headed towards the library.

When he was gone Castiel directed his full attention to Dean. “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course,” Dean stammered. “Yeah, man, I slept great.”

“Ok, I know the first night it took you approximately two hours to fall asleep and if it’s not comfortable or there isn’t enough space or --”

“It’s fine, Cas,” Dean snapped, a little more harsh than he meant to. “Really.” A pit formed in his stomach as he realized that Castiel might not sleep next to him anymore. But he couldn’t come out and say it. He couldn’t just tell his best friend that he slept so well last night and waking up next to him was amazing. He couldn’t.

“I slept great, actually,” he added, perhaps a little too late.

Castiel nodded, watching him closely.

“Seriously, Cas. It was ... I slept fine.” He stood up a little too fast, banging his knee on the table. He retreated to the library to join Sam and distract himself from whatever was going on with Cas.

* * *  
The fourth night Dean woke up in the middle of the night. He was not alone in his bed, which at this point was not unusual. Being in the middle of the bed with his back pressed into Castiel’s stomach and one of his arms draped over Dean’s waist however was different.

For a moment Dean lay still. Letting his breathing even out again, he felt ... well, comfortable. So very comfortable. He felt Cas shift gently behind him, a slight change in his breathing told Dean that he might not be the only one faking sleep right now. 

Before he could over think it, Dean reached his left hand over to Cas’s arm and pulled it closer around him. Castiel breathed deeply behind him and Dean took a breath to match him. For the first time since this whole sleeping-class had started Dean felt completely at ease (though of course his brain still had that turning over and kissing Cas fantasy). He felt calm. He felt safe. Truly safe here, wrapped in the arms of a former solider of heaven. 

“Good night, Cas,” he murmured.

“Good night, Dean,” came the reply whispered in his ear.

* * *  
The fifth night Dean came to bed later than usual -- he had made a quick milk run salt-and-burn gig in a town a few hours away and it was past 2am by the time he was back to the Bunker. 

A nervous anticipation kept nagging him the whole way home, and continued even as he clambered down the stairs of the Bunker. The kitchen smelled like burnt toast -- Cas must have cooked again -- but someone had left the library and hall lights on for him.

He opened the door to his room quietly and felt a wave of relief as he saw the sleeping figure on his bed. Dean smiled, closing the door behind him and heading for the showers. He was gross after driving 8 hours and breaking the wall in that mausoleum. 

By the time he returned to his room, showered and fed (because there had been pie in the fridge and oh yeah, it was an 8 hour drive) he was definitely ready to sleep. Dean was pretty sure he would crawl into bed next to Castiel and fall asleep immediately.

Nope. 

Instead, the moment he climbed quietly into bed and gently snuggled himself up against Cas’s back, his arm wrapped around Cas’s stomach, his entire brain exploded with thoughts. Sleep was suddenly a distant thought.

Dean forced himself to lie still, Cas looked so peaceful and he didn’t want to wake him. Absently he realized that his left hand was tracing small circles into Cas’s stomach gently through the fabric of his tshirt. Dean paused for a moment, but Cas remained asleep. He forced his hand to be still, leaving it resting on Cas's stomach. 

Dean breathed in sharply as Cas’s hand reached up and rested gently on Dean’s knee. Dean let his hand wander up to Cas's leg, tracing gently lines along it. Cas leaned back a little more, pressing his body tightly against Dean’s. Dean’s other hand gently massaged Castiel’s neck before running his fingers through the dark hair. 

Neither of them spoke, and a small part of Dean’s brain pointed out how ridiculous it was they were both still pretending to sleep. Dean could practically hear his pulse and he heard Cas’s breath become shallower.

There was only so long this position would be ... not embarrassing for Dean. 

He leaned back slightly, running his hand down Cas’s spine and smiling as Cas’s breath caught. Dean was captivated. He wanted so badly to hold onto this moment and genuinely afraid he would wake up to find this was a dream. 

Castiel rolled over, now facing Dean. His hands slowly reached under Dean’s shirt exploring his chest. Cas’s touch made him feel like his body was on fire. Cas leaned in closer, bowing his head slightly to rest it against Dean’s chest, one of Dean’s hands resting gently on his neck. 

They stayed like that for a long moment, breathing together. 

“Cas. Kiss me.”

The words were out of his mouth before Dean realized he was saying them. But he did not have any time to reconsider.

Cas’s lips were on his and his mouth opened greedily. 

The warm feeling Dean had felt before was nothing compared to the electric shock that shot through him now. Kissing Castiel was like .... like nothing he had felt before. It was peaceful and wanting, it was earnest and gentle, a perfect balance of everything. 

Dean pulled back gently, his breath rapid and shallow. 

Castiel reached his arms around Dean, pulling him in close, pressing their mouths together again, lips and tongues exploring. Each kiss a little deeper than the previous. 

Castiel kissed him harder, his hands roaming down along Dean’s body, slowly, as though he didn’t want to miss any part of it. He rolled Dean onto his back and pulled his t-shirt off, his hands and mouth wandering along Dean’s chest and arms. 

Dean forgot that it was 3am. He forgot that he was worried about Sam. He forgot that Hell was still open and the angels had fallen. He even forgot that he felt bad Castiel had lost his wings. Nothing in the world seemed to exist outside this room, this bed. Nothing else in the world mattered anymore. 

* * *  
On the fifth morning Dean woke up wrapped tightly in Cas’s arms. They stayed in bed as long as excusable, but finally dragged themselves out of bed, stealing kisses like giddy teenagers as they tried to get dressed even though neither wanted to.

On the fifth morning Dean held Castiel’s hand and led him into the kitchen for breakfast. 

Sam glanced up as they walked in. He was smiling and Dean could have sworn he heard Sam mutter “finally”. There was a notebook open in front of him on the table with symbols sketched on the page. 

“Morning,” Sam greeted cheerfully. 

“Hey,” Dean said, pouring coffee for Cas and then himself. He glanced at the notebook in front of Sam as they sat down. Castiel absently rested a hand on Dean’s knee. “Those look like runes of some kind,” Dean commented. “Is this for that Nebraska case?”

“No,” Sam said. “They’re sigils for a spell. I’m doing us all a favor here.”

Dean looked at the notebook again, confused. 

Castiel glanced at the notebook and grinned knowingly at Sam.

“I believe these are for us to draw in your bedroom,” Castiel commented drily.

“What? Why? Huh? What?” 

“It’s a soundproofing spell, Dean,” Sam said, sliding the notebook across the table to him. 

“Oh?” Dean grinned. “Oh. Right. Awesome.” He turned to Cas, “Hey Cas, wanna help me test a spell later?”

**Author's Note:**

> First thing I've published. I love the story trope of accidental ways Destiel happens since neither of them will just come out and say it. 
> 
> (Characters of course belong to CW,no infringement intended,etc)


End file.
